The level sunbeams slant athwart the plain Through the long shadows of the flying group— Yet the destruction lingered; yet the sky Gave forth no presage of the coming wrath. The sward, dew-beaded, yielded to their tread Never more softly, and the bannered palms Playfully dallied with the morning breeze. Doubt grew to strength within the mother’s soul, Beneath the firmamental quietude; And though the angel’s clasp was on her hand, She backward looked, with longing, loving gaze, Incredulous of evil, to the roofs And lines of fair, white walls, that glittering lay Serene in the pure dawn. The rigid hand Dropped icy from the angel’s—the stark form Stood fixed, and motionless, and marble pale— A ghostly monument of unbelief. Dumb with the tracking fear that suffered not A moment’s waste in sorrow—on they pressed And gained the place of refuge. Then they turned, Breathless and tottering, with their straining eyes Clouded with horror, and their lips apart In speechless eagerness, and awful dread, Toward the distant city. The calm morn Seemed sliding downward to abysmal night: All Nature’s face grew sickly: through the plain, The fell simoom came sweeping like a fiend, Twisting the tallest palm-trees, as their stems Were lithest summer reeds, and wrenching up Centurial cedars. Silver-threaded streams Grew to a leaden blackness: tempest-clouds, Lurid with fiery fringes, marshaled all Their most terrific grandeur, and rolled on In thunderous darkness, till the funeral heavens Thrilled to the shock, and the fast-anchored earth Seemed throbbing in the agitated swell Of fathomless ether. Sulphurous, forked flames, Like myriads of avenging swords, flashed out Above the guilty cities, and the shriek Of frantic multitudes came roaring on In dismal howls, as if the eternal pit Had emptied forth its demons. The hot wrath Of God’s fierce anger rained with scathing breath The deluge-fire of a descending hell— And in the flaming sheets, the stately towers— The lofty mausoleums—the proud walls— The rich abodes of princes—and the homes Of Heaven-defying wickedness, were wrapped As in a fitting cerement.